Page:Joan of Arc - Southey (1796).djvu/64

 These the Maid Mark'd as they steer'd their dusky flight along; And lo! she was amidst them. Paved with bones The floor breath'd pestilence: the emblazon'd walls With ensigns and with blood-stain'd arms were hung, The trophies of. On his throne That Form portentous rear'd his giant bulk, More huge than he, who with his hundred arms Scatter'd confusion o'er the host of Gods Briareus: or the monster brethren twain, Whose stature swelling every hour gave hopes Of equalling highest Heaven: nor larger he Illusive, 'gainst whose head the thunderer Thor Sped frustrate his full force. A sable helm Shades his brown face, where glow'd thro' each dark tint The fire of anger; in his hand he grasp'd  The